[Raccoon City - NIGHT]
Arlo stood in the ruined street, his boots crunching on scattered glass. The air smelled faintly of burnt plastic and decay — the unmistakable scent of a world left to rot. He scanned the area, pistol drawn and threaded cane secured at his side. Despite the unsettling quiet, there were no zombies in sight.. Trash clogged the gutters, and the faint moans of something unnatural drifted through the air.
"This is... weird," Arlo muttered under his breath. His eyes wandered over the familiar surroundings — the cracked pavement, the scattered debris, the wrecked cars piled against crumbling walls. It felt like stepping into a memory, one he hadn't visited in years.
"Raccoon City…" Arlo muttered under his breath.
The streets matched the layout of the Original Resident Evil 3 — not the remake, but the old-school PlayStation classic. The same alleyways, the same abandoned shops — it was all there. The sheer nostalgia washed over him like a cold breeze.
"Man... I remember this," Arlo whispered. He recalled being a kid, gripping his controller tightly, panicking whenever a zombie lunged out from a blind corner. The old tank controls, the fixed camera angles — how many times had he died on this street alone? He chuckled grimly, but the humor faded fast.
This wasn't a game anymore."Focus," Arlo muttered. "No save points, no resets." He shook off the memories — this was survival now. He glanced around again.
The silence gnawed at him. Where the hell are the zombies? This was supposed to be a full-on apocalypse — yet here he was, alone in a street that felt too quiet.Then something clicked in his mind — this was supposed to be where Jill Valentine's story began. His brow furrowed.
Arlo just remembered something, Where the hell is Jill?
Suddenly, Arlo's danger intuition flared — a jarring spike of unease that made his skin crawl. His instincts screamed, MOVE!
BOOM!
An explosion tore through a nearby building, sending chunks of concrete and debris flying.
Arlo instinctively dove forward, narrowly avoiding a flaming metal beam that crashed where he had just been standing. He hit the pavement hard, rolling onto his side just as a half-burned corpse slumped to the ground nearby. Except... it wasn't just a corpse.
"Holy SHIT!" Arlo gasped, clutching his chest. "That's it... no more tempting fate." He peeked out from behind the dumpster and spotted several zombies rising from the rubble, twitching and groaning. Their twisted limbs jerked unnaturally as they shambled forward.
Arlo then activated his [Observe] to see the stats of the zombies
---
Status Window
Zombie
Race: Undead (T-Virus)
Level: 10
HP: 100/100
MP: 0/0
[Stats]
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 13
Intelligence: -5
Charisma: -10
Luck: 0
Endurance: 15
Wisdom: -5
[Skills]
T-Virus Mutation LV: 5/10, Cannibal LV: 5/10, Infection LV: 5/10
Status: Infected by the T-Virus
Remark: Most humans that have succumbed to the T-Virus (either through contaminated water supply or infected bites and scratches from a virus carrier).
Weakness: Brain Damage, Incinerations, Lack of Intelligence, Vulnerable to Environmental Hazards, Slowed Reflexes
Threat Level: Low
---
Arlo drew his Pit Viper, lining up a shot. "Headshots... gotta be headshots…" he muttered, steadying his breathing. The first zombie lunged at him
BANG!
[Headshot - 102 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +100]
Its skull exploded like a watermelon. Arlo spun to the second shot a the head of the zombie
BANG!
[Pit Viper Effect Activated - Headshot - 128 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +100]
Another clean shotA third zombie lurched toward him. He fired — click."Crap!" He'd forgotten to reload.
The zombie lunged closer, teeth gnashing. Arlo cursed, flipped his pistol into his holster, and drew his threaded cane instead.
The cane's blade whipped out with a flick, and Arlo twisted low, sweeping the zombie's legs out from under it. As it flailed on the ground, he drove the cane's blade through its skull, pinning it to the pavement.
[Pierce - 130 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +100]
Breathing slowly, Arlo wiped sweat from his brow. "I forgot how relentless this place is..."
He heard more groans behind him. A massive horde was converging on his position, likely drawn by the gunfire. "Great... now I'm playing on hard mode."
Ducking into an alley, Arlo sprinted through winding streets, dodging wrecked cars and scattered debris. He spotted a familiar landmark — a curved road that led toward the warehouse where Jill escaped the initial zombie horde.
"Perfect," Arlo muttered, quickening his pace.
Reaching the alleyway, Arlo's pulse quickened as he spotted three zombies shuffling toward him. Their rotten flesh sagged from their faces, eyes glassy and lifeless. One dragged its twisted leg behind it, while another's lower jaw dangled loosely, swaying with each unnatural step.
"No time for precision," Arlo muttered. He drew his Pit Viper, the familiar weight of the pistol bringing a small comfort. With no hesitation, he fired three rapid shots — BANG! BANG! BANG!
[Headshot - 104 Critical Damage]
[Headshot - 106 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +200]
The first bullet struck the lead zombie directly between the eyes — a clean kill, the creature dropping like a stone.
The second shot tore through the side of another's skull, dropping it in a jerking heap.
The third shot, however, clipped the final zombie's cheek, taking a chunk of rotting flesh with it but failing to slow the creature down. Its head twisted unnaturally to the side, but with an eerie snap, it straightened back up, its gaze locking onto Arlo.
"Of course you're stubborn..."Arlo muttered. His eyes flicked to his pistol — one round left. Not worth the risk. He shoved the Pit Viper back into his holster and reached for his threaded cane instead.
The zombie stumbled closer, dragging a shattered arm along the wall for balance. Its guttural growl reverberated in the narrow alley, a horrible wet sound that seemed to crawl beneath Arlo's skin. Its fingers twitched, reaching hungrily for him.
"Not today,"Arlo growled, gripping the threaded cane tightly. He stepped to the side just as the zombie lunged, letting its momentum carry it forward. Arlo pivoted, twisting his hips as he spun the cane outward in a wide arc. The blade shot forward with a swift metallic hiss, the sharpened steel biting into the zombie's neck. But the strike didn't finish the job. The blade embedded halfway through, snagging on bone. The zombie staggered, its gnarled fingers swiping wildly at Arlo's arm.
"Persistent..." Arlo muttered through gritted teeth.
He yanked the cane back, and with a sickening crack, the blade tore through the vertebrae, severing the zombie's head completely. The decapitated skull thudded to the pavement, its lifeless eyes still staring blankly ahead. The body stood motionless for a brief second before crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
[Decapitation - 140 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +100]
Arlo took a step back, wiping sweat from his brow. "I forgot how tough these things can be…" He flicked the blood off his cane with a sharp whip-like motion and collapsed it back into its compact form. The faint echo of distant moans reached his ears — a grim reminder that more were on the way.
"Gotta keep moving," Arlo muttered. He took one last look at the motionless bodies before jogging deeper into the alleyway. In this city, staying still was a death sentence.He stumbled into the warehouse's side entrance, slamming the door shut behind him. For a moment, all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. His hands shook slightly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
"Focus," Arlo muttered to himself. "This isn't a game."
The warehouse was dark, faint light filtering through broken windows. The silence felt heavy, but Arlo knew better than to trust it. He reloaded his Pit Viper, sliding a fresh magazine into place.
"Alright," he said softly. "Time to find Jill… and figure out what the hell's going on."
Arlo tightened his grip on his weapon.
"Yeah…" Arlo muttered grimly. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
***
The warehouse was larger than Arlo remembered — much bigger than the compact layout from the original game. The interior stretched deep into shadow, rows of towering shelves stacked with crates, barrels, and forgotten supplies. Dim light flickered through broken windows, giving the place a grim, unsettling vibe.
Arlo stood at the base of a short stairway leading to an upper level. The faint sound of shuffling feet echoed from the shadows behind him. He turned sharply, Pit Viper drawn.
"Stop right there!" Arlo barked, his pistol aimed at a figure in the shadows.
A man emerged, raising his hands shakily. He was balding, overweight, and breathing hard — [Dario Rosso].
Arlo's mind clicked instantly — this guy dies first in the game.
"You bit,?" Arlo asked, narrowing his eyes. Dario shook his head rapidly.
"N-no! I swear!" Dario stammered. His voice cracked, his whole body trembling.
Arlo's finger hovered on the trigger. His knowledge from the game told him Dario shouldn't be infected — but this wasn't a game. This was real, and if Dario had been bitten, hesitation could cost Arlo his life.
"Don't move," Arlo warned, activating his [Observe]. Status Window appeared in his HUD:
---
[Dario Rosso]
Race: Human
Level: 5
HP: 47/60
MP: None
Stats: Average
Skills: None
Status: Uninfected / Trauma Detected
Description: Traumatized Fool who is deathly afraid and paranoid
Threat Level: Nonexistant
---
Arlo exhaled. "Alright," he muttered, lowering his pistol. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."
Turning toward the stairs, Arlo gestured for Dario to follow.
"We gotta get out of here," Arlo said. "This whole city's about to go straight to hell."
Dario's face twisted with grief and anger. "What do you think you're talking about?! I just lost my daughter out there! How dare you tell me to go back outside!" His voice rose to a near scream.
Arlo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Damn it... He didn't blame Dario for being emotional, but this wasn't the time to argue.
"Look," Arlo said calmly, "I'm sorry about your daughter. But there isn't going to be a rescue. Staying here's just waiting to die — and I'd rather you walk out of this alive than rot in this warehouse."
"No!" Dario snapped, stepping back. "I'm not going anywhere! I'd rather starve than get eaten by one of those... things!"
Before Arlo could stop him, Dario sprinted toward a nearby storage trailer, slamming the door shut and locking himself inside.
"Hey man!" Arlo called out, pounding on the metal door. "Come on, man! You're just gonna trap yourself!"
"I told you!" Dario's muffled voice yelled from within. "I'm not leaving! Never! Just leave me alone!"
Arlo's fist lingered on the door for a moment. He considered forcing it open — dragging Dario out if he had to — but deep down, he knew it wouldn't matter.
"Damn it…" Arlo muttered under his breath.
For a brief moment, he felt like a coward. He knew what happened to Dario in the original game — the man never made it out. But still... leaving someone behind, even if they refused help, felt wrong.
With a heavy heart, Arlo whispered to himself, "I'm sorry, Dario."
Shaking his head, Arlo grabbed Link's Luxury Ball from his belt. The sphere flashed red as Link materialized on the floor. The Rockruff barked excitedly, wagging his tail as he greeted Arlo.
"Easy, buddy," Arlo said, kneeling to scratch Link behind the ears. "We've gotta stay quiet, okay? There's a lot of bad things out there, and we don't want them noticing us." Link perked up, then gave a confident bark, as if to say I've got this.
Arlo smirked. "Good boy."
Leaving Dario behind weighed on him, but lingering here wasn't an option. Arlo climbed the staircase to the warehouse office — a small room overlooking the main floor. The door hung slightly ajar, its frame warped from age. He pushed it open cautiously, scanning the room for movement.
Dust coated the floor, and forgotten papers lay scattered across a cluttered desk. Shelves lined the walls, half of them broken or ransacked. Arlo rifled through the drawers, searching for anything useful.
Then, tucked beneath a stack of old invoices, he found it — a small silver key with a tag attached. It read: "Backdoor."
"Just like the game..." Arlo muttered. He pocketed the key and scanned the room one last time for supplies. Aside from the key, nothing seemed valuable — no ammo, no healing herbs, nothing.
"Figures," Arlo muttered. "Guess things won't just spawn in random corners like the game..."
Returning to the main floor, Arlo knelt beside Link. "Alright," he whispered. "Time to keep moving." He gripped the small silver key tightly. Whatever was waiting for him outside... he'd be ready.
...
Arlo left the office, gripping the silver key tightly in his hand. The air inside the warehouse was stale, carrying the scent of dust and mildew. As he made his way toward the backdoor, he paused, instincts flaring like a fire alarm. His [Danger Intuition] is triggered — a sudden, intense feeling that something was waiting for him on the other side.
"Alright… let's see what I'm dealing with," Arlo muttered. Closing his eyes briefly, he focused on his Short term premonition. Blurred images flickered in his mind — the narrow alley outside, cluttered with debris... and a lone zombie, shambling aimlessly with its back turned toward the door.
Could be worse, Arlo thought grimly. At least it's facing away.
He took his Threaded Cane from his side, gripping the leather-wrapped handle tightly. The steel blade remained hidden within the shaft — no need for its whip form yet.
Sliding the key into the lock, Arlo turned it slowly. The old mechanism clicked louder than he wanted, but there was no other choice. He eased the door open just enough to slip through.The alley reeked of rotting garbage and old blood. The zombie stood only a few steps away, its decomposing body barely swaying as if frozen in mid-thought. Its skin was mottled gray, the flesh on its arms hanging loosely like torn fabric.
Arlo moved carefully, planting each step with precision. The loose gravel beneath his boots threatened to betray him, but he kept his balance. Step by step, he inched closer, gripping his cane tightly.
When he was within reach, Arlo raised the cane and flicked his wrist. The steel blade shot out with a mechanical snap."Sorry, pal," Arlo muttered. With one swift motion, he slashed the cane upward in a clean arc, severing the zombie's head from its shoulders.
[Decapitation - 126 Critical Damage]
[EXP Gained: +100]
The decaying skull hit the ground with a dull thud, its lifeless body crumpling after it.
Arlo exhaled in relief, retracting his cane back into its neutral form. "That could've gone worse," he muttered. Moving out into the back alley, Arlo stayed low and close to the walls. The streets ahead weren't silent — faint moans drifted from several blocks away. He knew better than to engage unless necessary. Stealth was his best option.
The alley fed into a twisted maze of backstreets — far different from what Arlo remembered from the original Resident Evil 3. This wasn't the narrow, controlled environment he expected. It was wider, cluttered with wrecked cars, broken storefronts, and twisted heaps of metal. He reached the entrance to Business Main Street and crouched behind an overturned dumpster. Across the street, a pack of zombies stumbled aimlessly between the cars. Some leaned against broken windows, their hands twitching mindlessly against the glass. Others dragged their feet through pools of stagnant water, their wet shoes squelching with every step.
Too many… way too many to risk a fight, Arlo thought, clenching his jaw. He scanned the street, plotting a safer path.Spotting a side passage marked "Business Back Street", Arlo grinned. That's it... quieter path, fewer chances to run into the horde. He motioned to Link, pointing toward the alley.
"Come on, buddy," Arlo whispered. "Quiet as a Growlithe sneaking up on a Rattata." Link tilted his head, wagged his tail once, then padded silently beside him. Arlo smirked to himself. "Good boy…"
As Arlo moved toward the alley's entrance, he kept his cane at the ready. The city was crawling with threats, and he knew one wrong move could turn this whole escape into a bloodbath.
"Let's just hope my luck holds out," Arlo muttered under his breath, pressing on into the darkened street ahead.